The Shadows' Song
by Palm Tree Fangirl
Summary: A man awakens to undeath only to find that the efforts in his previous life have done nothing to stop the evil his family wishes to wreck upon Azeroth and vows to redeem himself by attempting to stop them once more. Based on RP series on Moon Guard Server
1. The Awakening

**Hello! This is a World of Warcraft fanfiction that me and my brother are writing, the idea for the most part belonging to my brother. This story is actually still being roleplayed on WoW on the Moonguard server with several other players. As a matter of fact, this scene actually did take place in Deathknell, which is the beginning area for Undead. This is an extremely long story (it IS still being roleplayed), so it's bound to keep you busy since there will never be a shortage of ideas. To be honest, I am extremely confident that this will be twenty times better than my FMA fanfiction. So, review if you like, and if you must flame, go outside and slam your keyboard to the ground out of frustration of how much this sucks. Enjoy!**

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The Shadow's Song: The Tale of Noctus Mauvais

Chapter 1: The Awakening

A man lays almost motionless on the floor. The loud sounds of footsteps echo throughout what seems to be a room made entirely out of stone. The man rises to his feet, finding himself in tattered, old robes, stinking of ash and soot, and another rank smell he couldn't quite put his finger on. He looked up, supporting his body with his hands. He stared across to meet the gaze of a strange fellow with pale skin, who would be bald if not for the hair tied up in the back. Through a highly guttural, raspy voice, the figure said five cryptic words: "About time you woke up."

Unsure as to what this stranger told him, the man, who apparently awakened recently, approached the stranger. The stranger began to speak as he led the man out of the building, which, after the man looked around him, was not a place one would normally go to rest.  
"My name is Undertaker Mordo. We were about to toss you into the fire with the rest of them, until you-"

"Where are we?" the man asked the Undertaker.

"...What do you mean?"

"I mean, what is this place? Where was I sleeping, if you call it that? Where am I? WHO am I?"

The Undertaker looked at the man apprehensively. "I can't give you answers to all those questions, but I can tell you your location. I just pulled you out of the Shadow Grave. You're in Deathknell, in Tirisfal Glades."

"Are you meaning to tell me I took a nap in a crypt?"

The pair paused as the Undertaker looked back at the man. He looks away, clearly disheartened by the man's clear lack of awareness of his situation. "...Let's go. Shadow Priest Sarvis has some favors he'd like to ask of you."

As the man walked down the path, things suddenly popped into his mind... A name... Yes, he must have had a name, all people do, whether given by parents or made by themselves... Before considering the latter, a name finally came to his mind.  
Noctus Invidius Mauvais.

Yes, that must be his name. That's the only one he remembers. More images flashed to him, showing his appearance, from childhood to being a teenager, then a young adult. The first two depicted a shy, gentle boy with deep violet hair, messy yet flowing down his shoulders and behind his back, and rather pale skin, with curious eyes with irises wreathed in flames, with a slit for a pupil. The last image showed a man, with the same gentleness, but with greater wisdom and knowledge. Yes, this is who he was... Noctus Mauvais. Seemingly an anomaly amongst his kind, who he decided are, or perhaps were, humans.

Clearly curious to see how he looked, he held up his arms. His eyes widened in shock, as he saw that where his joints would be were eaten away by various insects, and what remained was rotting away and even paler than what he saw in his visions of what he formerly looked like. Something hit him though; what was he looking with? He didn't feel his eyelids move, or his eyes shift. He held his hand to his face, touching it. Though most of it remained, he poked into his eye sockets only to find slight warmth, but no orbs except of a golden light shining onto his hands. He shifts his head frequently, feeling himself continuously, only to be further horrified by his current condition. Aimlessly, he ran about, trying to find someway to make sense of all of this.

In the midst of his panic, Noctus fell down. Looking back, he had seen that his right leg fell off, the kneecap eaten away entirely, similarly to his elbow. Absolutely terrified and confused, he found a large sack on the ground. He opened it and took out a large skin of water. He opened it, looking in to see his reflection. What he saw utterly horrified him, as it was what his visions confirmed earlier as to his appearance, only far paler and having no eyes except small, golden lanterns in each hollow socket.

Gazing with horror into his reflection, millions of images and memories began flooding his mind, suddenly learning who he was, and what he was doing here, and the most shocking truth of all...

Three years ago, the man named Noctus Mauvais died.


	2. Darkest Memory

**Just a few notes I would like to make before beginning: Whenever you see ( ---- ) it means that the time-frame is changing, or transition to a different location or point-of-view. There are further notes that are located at the end of the story. They AREN'T spoilers, sorry to ruin your fun. Well, now that I'm through bothering you,enjoy the second chapter of the Shadows' Song!**

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Chapter 2: Darkest Memory

"So, Shadow Priest... Are all of my favors complete?"

"Yes, Noctus. You may go now."

Noctus bowed before the Shadow Priest as he returns the bow. Sarvis had pale skin with dark, long hair, although unlike Noctus, he had a large bald spot at the peak of his head. As Noctus left the room slowly (his leg was re-attached), the Shadow Priest shook his head almost in disgust as the other young Priest walked away.

"Something troubling you, Father?" asked one of the Novices.

"There's something detestable about that boy..." replied Sarvis. "He radiates that disgusting Holy energy..."

"I'm sure it's nothing serious, Father."

After a long, dreary walk through the dying lands of Tirisfal Glades, Noctus finally happened upon the small town of Brill. Relieved to finally get off the road, he headed into the local Inn. There was a sign up on the front labeled "The Gallows' End Tavern." It seemed vaguely familiar, when he realized that this was largely human architecture. Made sense. Tirisfal was previously human-occupied, and the Forsaken saw no shame in using what was already available to them, despite its former alignment. Noctus entered to find several like himself: Dead, rotting people, though they made him feel thankful for his condition, since many of them seemed in much worse shape than he was in. There were few of them missing lower jaws. Noctus took a seat, listening into the conversations. All of the people there were discussing their former lives, what they did, how they died, and what they seek in undeath. The people in the tavern were as follows: Centus McManus, also known as the "Hundred Hands" in life, former thief and womanizer, since his former charm could win the heart of any lady from miles away. In his current form, however, he couldn't even manage a kiss, due to a lack of a complete mouth, and his most severe rot. There was then Tequiero, a blind Priestess who has a strange, clinging devotion to the Light the Forsaken have abandoned. However, she was a kind, gentle woman, who would never hurt anyone, though she was a tad strange, as she seemed to fall over every time she heard the tolling of the town bells. Then Ophylia, a woman who had little to no memory of her past life, trying to find out what exactly happened before, only having short flashes of remembrance, but gentle and a bit airy and innocent. Many others who did not formally introduce themselves were present, many of them filled with discontent and brimmed with the thirst for revenge upon those who killed them, be they Scourge or the living. Centus looked over to Noctus' direction and attempted to smile, sensing a very friendly, comforting presence.

"Father, I can tell by your garb that you're a Priest. Perhaps you could tell us your tale?" the rogue said, perfectly spoken. Rather surprising for a man without a jaw.

Noctus arose and began his tale, first by introducing himself in full.

"I am Noctus Invidius Mauvais, at your services." Noctus bowed, and began his tale.

----

A vast room with several human and elven attendees, all of them garbed in the violet robes of the Kirin Tor. They all sat, directing their attention to the front. One boy sat down, gazing to the front almost nonchalantly. The boy held his head and idly ran his fingers through his long, messy violet hair, ripping out  
some of the tangles. He jumped, terrified after a stern voice shouted his name.

"INVIDIUS!"

Just his luck, Noctus was in a magic class instructed by his father: not only that, but the class of the study and comprehension of Fel magics, approved by the Kirin Tor as a means of combating enemy forces. In reality, this professor of Fel magic was a heavy practitioner of the dark arts, and was training an army of warlocks to do his bidding, by means of this class. Sorken Mauvais was the man at the front, who really instructed Noctus in those ways since he was little more than a young boy, as was the rest of his family. Sorken was extremely pale, though his face barely changed in however many years he existed, his hair was a clear, silver color, tied into a ponytail and the only person in the class with Crimson and Black robes. Noctus sat up, gazing attentively at his father. He was the eldest sibling among his family, and he only recently became of age to go to actual classes.

"Invidius, can you tell the rest of these novices the values of a true Warlock?" asked Sorken, gazing at hi son angrily, expecting an answer, and quickly.

"Mercy is for the weak, Master Mauvais," droned Noctus. He heard this several times before, and was forced to recite it until he could say it by memory. He leaned over, thinking he satisfied his father's demands.

"Very good, Invidius," Sorken nodded in approval. He continued on his lesson of the, as the Kirin To dubbed it, "Twisted Arts of the Nether."

"When I say, 'Mercy is for the weak,' I really mean it in every aspect possible," continued the Master Warlock "When you have your Demon, you cannot show it any sort of lenience, otherwise it will be intent on usurping you, if not killing you. Demons are no more compassionate than you are, if not far less, hence you must show them as little mercy as they show you. This is why Warlocks subdue their Demons before actually using them. They must demonstrate their power before actually commanding them. If the Warlock proves himself worthy, and of considerable power, the Demon will obey without question, even if it does give smart-ass comments to you whenever you give it orders."

----

Noctus knew all too well about showing little mercy toward his Demons. His first Demon was a Succubus, which he had to torment into submission, according to his father's instructions. After torturing his Demon for another half-hour, the young Noctus broke down and started tearing up. He attempted to disguise his tears, with the comprehension that the Demons would try and kill or usurp him. However, she approached him and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, kid," she said, attempting to be reassuring. "It's not like it isn't something my previous master didn't do to me. I'm used to it now... We all are. Come on, stop crying, will ya?"

Noctus wiped his tears, trying to hide his emotions. "You... You're just trying to toy with my emotions, using them to your advantage," he sobbed, trying to sound as serious as a 10-year-old could.

The succubus sighed, trying to keep from passing through the verge of tears herself. "I know you make us all out to be monsters, and maybe we are. I'm not trying to hurt you, I'm just trying to make you more comfortable with me."

Noctus looked up to the Demon. She was a few feet taller than he was, though he was just a child. "I just... I just don't want to hurt anyone... If you

aren't out to do those kinds of things to me, mind telling me your name...?"

The Succubus smiled, knowing she did her job of calming her new master. "Name's Aevlyndae, kid. And you're... Invidius, right? At least, from what your dad told me."

Noctus sensed that the Demoness was only trying to be friendly. He tried to smile and simply replied "Just call me Noctus... Everyone else does."

After the class was over, Noctus retreated to the gardens of Dalaran. He sat by himself, gazing at just about everyone crossing his path. A High-Elf girl with long, dark hair and fair skin briefly looked at him, smiled, then looked away. Noctus' father almost appeared just behind him.

"Invidius. It's about time we had you go into the world as a representative of the Kirin Tor. You know of

our family's intentions, and-"

"I know. I need to help pave the way for our glorious masters' return. You went over this repeatedly."

"Only so you could see that you are the heir of something of greatest importance!"

"You made that clear, too."

"Invidius... One last thing. Whatever you do, NEVER succumb to these values the others may have. You are a true Mauvais, hence you will not follow their weak Light doctrine."

"...Yes, father." There was a touch of reluctance in Noctus' voice, though Sorken showed no evidence of knowledge.

----

From then on, Noctus' memories skip forward to sometime in his service in the Lordaeron Elite Corps., when he joined a troop attempting to suppress an orcish uprising in one of the more out-of-the-way internment camps. Noctus volunteered as a healer, rejecting his Father's twisted teachings of the Dark arts.  
Noctus, through his efforts at the Elites' base camp, earned himself a position as chief Healer and Alchemist. After the Elites brought back an orcish prisoner, Noctus observed the captive. The Orc was wrinkled, with fading Green skin, and very long, white hair with a braided beard. He seemed to have noticed something about this orc that wasn't quite like the more hostile ones in this area... His garb was different, evidently from a culturally different clan, but most importantly, this orc was elderly and unarmed.

"Captured one of their Sorcerers, master Mauvais," said the captain of the troop. "Weird fellow, didn't see an darkness spells or flames coming out of him. It was raining wherever he walked though, trying to bring up a storm to slow us down."

"Our crops were dying, human..." the elder rasped out, almost half-dead.

"Quiet, you!" The captain slapped the orc with the back of his plate gauntlets. The old orc moaned as blood dribbled down his already chipped tusks. Noctus flinched at the sound of the metal chipping the old orc's tooth, and asked the captain if he could have a word with the Orc.

"Of course, Master Mauvais. Maybe you could teach this brute a few manners..." The captain took his leave and left Noctus and the orc to themselves.

"If you are to torture me, human, spare me. I'm an old, decrepit man," the Orc muttered audibly. "Torture will be just as much a passage of death as killing me now... Give me the honor of dying in battle, for I have... Failed, my people."

"You are a Shaman, aren't you?" Noctus abruptly asked him.

"You know of our ways, human?"

"Yes, and hold them in high esteem..."

"Gol'kosh... Never thought you'd think me as anything other than a dread sorcerer..."

Noctus smiled at the old man. "Your kind is not the evil these men speak of. Who are you?"

"My name is... Kol'krom Firestorm... Chieftain of the Firestorm clan..." the old Shaman replied.

"A pleasure, Kol'krom. I am Noctus Mauvais, Chief Healer of the Elite Corps."

"Healer?" the old orc asked, his eyes lighting up, looking to Noctus with sudden admiration.

"Judging from your look... And saying you failed your people... I'll say you're in need of my services? Noctus asked Kol'krom.

"The Firestorm Clan... We are... dying. Our crops aren't growing like they used to, and the boars are too lean and don't make meat very easy for us to retrieve... I was trying to call upon a storm to help the crops grow, but the Human Elites came and burned them down... attacked our housing... Men, women... Children, too. It didn't matter... To them, we're savage monsters out with a bloodlust... We need the healing, so our crops can be cultivated and properly managed..."

"Perhaps I could be of aid?" Noctus asked."Your people would not forgive you for helping a... 'Monster' such as myself." Kol'krom was right. Humans did not take kindly to association with said "enemies." "Kol'krom... To me, your kind are people in need. I'll tell the captain that I'm going in a scouting excursion while you lead me to your camp."

"Very well." Noctus exited the medic's tent with the old orc. He spoke to the Captain. "I have made an agreement with this man to have him take me to his village on a scouting excursion." The captain nodded. "Good. He could be useful for information. Just watch your back. You never know what these Orcs are up to..." The Captain looked to Kol'krom with clear disgust.

----

After a few hours of walking, the old Orc made it to his village, and what Noctus saw was absolutely appalling. Male and female orcs of all ages, laying on the ground, bloodied up beyond all believe, and ashes for fields. Noctus could not believe that beings calling themselves "Honorable" and "Noble" would do such a thing, almost as barbarous, if not more so, than the enemy they fight.such things... "...I'll see what I can do, Kol'grom..." Noctus stuttered, disgusted by the sight of all these people almost massacred.

Noctus went to each individual orc, giving whatever healing he could, and after several hours, he finally finished healing every single one of them and bolstering them to help them recover. The entire clan looked upon him with awe, as Kol'krom looked upon Noctus in awe."Gol'kosh, Master Mauvais! You truly are an amazing healer! You will always have a place in the hearts of all the Horde once Warchief Thrall sets us all free!" The entire village cheered his name. So loudly, in fact, the Elite Camp heard them... And the Captain's scout who had unknowingly followed Noctus told tales of betrayal and treason...

[ "Gol'kosh" is an orcish mannerism equivalent to "Gee" or "Gosh" (hence why it sounds like "Oh Gosh.")


	3. Death

Chapter 3: Death

Noctus began to make his way back to the base camp. As he arrived, all the men were armed and the dwarven riflemen and mortar teams had their weapons pointed toward the path Noctus took. As he approached, the captain raised his hand, signaling the men to hold their fire. He ran up to Noctus to negotiate with him.

"Master Mauvais, is what the Scout told me true? Did you –really- heal those Orcs at the encampment?"

"I did what I had to, Captain," Noctus replied solemnly.

"Do you realize the cost of your actions!? You don't even have any idea if those orcs will attack or not! Has battle driven you completely mad!?"

"I'd ask the same of you, Captain! Was it –really- necessary to almost kill ALL of them?"

"Dammit, Mauvais, we had to! Their warriors…"

"Their warriors aren't who I mean, captain! When I was taken to that orc's camp, I saw more than just warriors languishing and dying! You tried to kill people who couldn't defend themselves in any fashion!"

"And yet you –heal- them, knowing they are the enemy, Mauvais!? You tell me that, when our enemies get back to their feet and strike us with a vengeance!"

Noctus glared at the captain, knowing exactly what atrocities were committed. The Captain sighed and shook his head.

"Knew your heart was much too kind for military work… We should have kept your kind in Northshire… Tell you what, Mauvais. I won't punish you. However, the higher-ups have to hear about this. If there's a bounty on your head… I had nothing to do with you. Just run to Tirisfal Glades and hide outside the town of Brill. I'm only telling you this since you were such a skilled healer. Brightwater Lake should be a good place to hide for the time being." The Captain began to walk away, waving his hand dismissively. Noctus followed him back to the base camp. As he came, everyone there gave him angry glares as he headed back to his Medic tent.

----

In Dalaran, this news reached the ears of the populace surprisingly slowly. However, there was one resident that found out as quickly as he could…

Sorken Mauvais, presently an ancient man, whose age is uncertain, stared out the window of his Tower in the wizard's city. As he does so, a small imp appears before him.

"Master Mauvais!" the small imp squealed.

"Laztog… I hope your search was productive," the old Warlock replied.

"Of-of course, Master! I found out about something you'll find… Interesting."

"Do tell."

"Young Master Invidius seems to have committed what higher command would call… Treason."

"About time they saw it, too. He committed treason to the family by practicing his vaunted 'holy arts.' See to it that there's a price on his head. I know of several Assassins who'd be glad to aid me."

"It shall be done, Master…"

The imp disappeared and Sorken looked to the landscape with a sinister grin. The destruction of his son will get rid of one problem in his ultimate goal, as will the elimination of all who would dare oppose him and the return of his glorious masters…

The Fiery Lords of the Burning Legion…

----

After receiving the news of the new bounty on him, Noctus wasted no time in going into hiding. His place of choice was a hill just near Brightwater Lake. For several weeks, he had wondered why he went into hiding, since no one was coming to kill him. After several weeks of waiting, he met up with another fugitive: a Quel'dorei named Alliane, who was wanted by the Silvermoon government as a criminal. Sympathizing with her, Noctus helped show her hiding places and what to do if the guards ever came, and how to get food. The two helped each other in every way possible. Alliane went off to get herself food when Noctus met his first assassin…

Frighteningly enough, it was a young man, no older than his early 20s… Not unlike Noctus, who was 24 at the time.

"So, you're the traitor, huh?" the assassin said to him. "But you look to nice to be a war-criminal. Then again… Looks can be deceiving."

"Child, if you don't wish to die, I advise you forget all about meeting me," Noctus told the assassin, glaring at him.

The assassin laughed. "What? And turn down all the money that's on your head? I don't think so, pal. I've got a few stomachs to feed."

"If you have a family, it will make your death all the more lamentable… Please, spare yourself and leave at once!"

"Not likely. If I'm dying, I'm going down fighting."

"What good is it dying like a dog for no good reason?"

"Honor, my friend. What you have none of."

Noctus sighed heavily. There was no way to get through to this man… He had no choice.

This man had to die.

----

The assassin took a good look at Noctus. There was something about him that was not quite right… He was too concerned for the assassin's well being, as if this war-criminal really could do something horrid to him. The assassin decided to give Noctus one last honor before facing off with him.

"By the way, my name's Armin. Armin Niemann," the Assassin introduced himself.

"I suppose I need no introduction, considering you're here…"

Armin held his blade. The money was so close he could taste it… He finally had a chance to feed his wife and kids without having to do something that would chain him to the ground for eternity, and wouldn't chain his wife either… His kids could get an education instead of having to work on a farm…

…Noctus picked up all of these thoughts, almost reading Armin's mind. He knew everything about this man trying to kill him and it only took a few seconds. It seems Priestly abilities came naturally to him, along with telepathy.

"I truly am sorry I have to do this… I'd hate to see your dreams for your family get shattered…"

"I'm sorry, too. Sorry you got optimistic of your chances!"

Armin began charging at Noctus with his blades at full speed. Just as he tried to take a slash at his prey, it flipped into the air, more times than a normal human would normally fathom.

"Damn… He's fast…"

Noctus landed behind Armin, gazing straight into his eyes as the assassin looked behind him.

Armin was frightened, to say the least, when he looked into Noctus' eyes. They were not normal human eyes; the irises were like flames that danced constantly in his head, and his pupils were little more than slits, like black chasms to the abyss. Armin backed away, the living daylights scared out of him. Armin tried charging at Noctus again, but the image kept appearing of those terrifying eyes, driving him mad, even before getting a chance to even strike the traitor.

Noctus saw that Armin was extremely frightened, and the mind implementation of his eyes was successful. His eyes were all that Armin saw, and was horrified each time he did. Noctus was breaking the man's mind. However, this sight began to disturb him greatly, just how easily he destroyed someone. He channeled some Holy energy and blasted it at Armin in order to finish him off and grant him peace.

Afterwards, Noctus tossed him into a massive grave, unbeknownst to him, containing the victims of the plague cursing the land… Which he and Alliane evaded…

----

Armin was not the only assassin that came after Noctus and Alliane. There were numerous others that came, and just as many were defeated. Back at Dalaran, Sorken was absolutely enraged by the lack of success of the previous assassination attempts.

"Do those dupes know nothing about killing a child!? He's been running rampant for months and STILL no one has killed him…"

"I suppose… I should just kill him myself…"

The old man disappeared from his tower in a burst of Fel flames…

----

Noctus made a venture over to present-day Deathknell, standing just outside the gates and keeping to the forests. A green light flashed behind him, and with it his Father appeared. His father looked very different now… His eyes were almost encompassed in orange flames, with minuscule horns coming from his head. The old man scowled at Noctus before speaking.

"I heard about your selfless deeds to the Orcs through Laztog… I am most… displeased."

"Who'd have known, the devil himself has come to greet me… Father."

Sorken held out his hand. "I won't even give you the peace of a quick death, my wayward son. From this day forth, you are no longer a part of the noble Mauvais dynasty!"

Sorken's hand glowed a bright green, and small sparks shot from his hands and made contact with Noctus' body. Noctus could feel his own spiritual energy combusting and burning him horribly. He cried and screamed, cursing his father with every other sentence. The agony was absolutely unbearable, with new shocks ever other hour… The worst part was, he was burning… for 3 days. And not an ounce of blood was dropped, no skin singed. His life force, along with his spiritual force, was being drained and that which remained was forced into a pool of agony…

At long last, the pain ended, and Noctus fell to the ground, and released his spirit.

He had finally died.


	4. Behind Searing Eyes

Chapter 4: Behind Searing Eyes

After watching his son burn in an Arcane fire for 3 days, Sorken decided that the coup de grace was necessary here. Pulling out a large knife, the Warlock plunged it into both of his son's eyes. The Searing Eyes, as the trait was called, was exclusive to the Mauvais family… And was one of the signs of a Human becoming tainted with Demonic forces, similar to an Orc's Green skin or the Sin'dorei's green eyes. Excluding his son from the family, Sorken removed both of his eyes, symbolically removing Noctus' status as a member of the family. He placed the two eyes in a small pouch, since he had an ulterior use for them… He disappears and fades slowly, but not without one final word to his now-dead son…

"Farewell, lost heir…"

----

Sorken stood in his Dark sanctuary in his tower in the shielded city of Dalaran. His silky, silver hair flew to the side as he turned his head to the footsteps he heard entering the room. To be exact, the footsteps of three women entered his room. The women bowed before him, saying almost in unison, "Greetings, Father."

Sorken nodded in acknowledgement. "My children. You've come at last."

His three daughters look to him and bowed respectfully. Their father inspected each of them before his eyes narrowed. "Where's Lust? Where's Votum?"

"You know how he is. Useless." The child on the far right answered. She was tall, pale, and had dark hair and a stern face, which seldom deviated from its serious expression. She was about 21, still rather young. She was clothed in full battle attire, the garbs of a warrior.

"Very well, Ira, as long as he's properly... Dealt with," Sorken answered her. Ira nodded in agreement.

The child in the middle smirked. "Really, father, did you expect our little man-whore to show up here after what he's like?" This child, younger than the first that spoke, had much shorter, crimson hair with equally pale skin. She had a smirk that showed itself continually, as her garb was more skin-tight and mobile, yet she only recently reached adulthood at age 18.

The final child, much younger, had very long, unkempt black hair, dressed in blue wizard's robes, her face nonchalant and almost idle constantly, always staring off. This was broken when she turned to the red-haired child and uttered monotonously "Shut it, Avarica. That's not what we're here for."

"Thank you, Inersia," Sorken began. "As she said, you aren't here about Lust's uselessness. We're here to discuss your wayward brother, Envy. He was originally our heir, but we don't have a successor anymore… None of you can succeed him."

"Damn, I was about to jump in."

"Quiet, Avarica."

Sorken looked to his children, than looked back, handling the pouch with his son's eyes inside. "However… I found out some other things and I know for a fact… I can simply create a construct. Daughters… I have learned how to create human life."

The three children looked to their father, in awe and horror. To create sentient life? Such a thing has never been achieved, save by Divine beings or nature. And their father was about to achieve such a thing… A both amazing and horrifying feat.

"I shall tell you when I finish."

----

Three years have passed since Envy's death. The new successor, a "Human Construct" as it was referred to was completed almost on the same day Sorken introduced the concept to his children. Everything was falling into place…

At least, so he thought.

His daughter Avarica burst through his chamber door, panting. "Dad! Bad news!"

"Avarica, this had better be good, I'm right in the middle of-."

"But it's Noctus! He… He's been reanimated… He's one of those free-willed Undead now!"

"You mean he is one of the Forsaken? Those Undead who've joined the Horde?"

"Yes, father! One of them!"

"This is unfortunate and unexpected, however… The Alliance may have one other use for us… Notify Ira, tell everyone to be on their guard, and begin escalating the Alliance's zeal."

"Yes, father."

Avarica left the room, as her Father continued to stare out the window. Glaring into the distance beyond Lordamere Lake, he mutters, as if communicating with his son…

"You can't hide forever, Invidius… Soon we shall put you down for good… Traitor."


	5. A New Heir

**Hi! This is Truth here. First off, I'd like to apologize to frequent readers (If any) for how long it took for me to post this next chapter. Writer's block is teh sux0rz. Anyway, Shadows' Song constantly switches between Alliance Side and Horde Side, telling both sides of the story, and there will be times when the two collide, so in case you're confused... Well, not anymore! Enjoy chapter 5!**

**- Truth**

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Chapter 5: A New Heir

The body of an adult human male writhes on the floor in a dark room, screaming in agony. It begins clawing at the cold, hard ground, trying to find some outlet for the almost immeasurable pain of being given this new life. The man screams, it knows no other form of speech. A dark, hooded figure approaches the frightened man, as he offers his hand to help the man up.

"Welcome to the world… My new son…"

The creature of a man looked to Sorken and tilted its head, curious. It comprehended speech quickly, but was confused…

"I am your creator… You shall be my… Yes. You shall be Pride. Faustosus… Pride."

The man nodded in acceptance, as it arose. It was ready to meet its dark destiny as heir to the throne of the family Mauvais…

----

Faustosus Mauvais rapidly grew into a powerful young Warlock, just as his Father intended him to. Subjected to the same sort of tasks and trials Noctus was, Faustosus got through them almost effortlessly, as though causing agony and taking lives was what he was made to do…. Well, that isn't very far from the truth, making him all the more deadly. After three years have passed since his creation, Faustosus felt ready to enter the World and go into the field of combat. And the news of his wayward brother was the perfect opportunity…

"Father. Is what you say true? Has the Traitor returned?" Faustosus asked, almost innocently.

"Unfortunately it is, Pride. I'm having our tool utilized to its fullest potential, now that we know he is one of the Horde."

"Is that so…?"

Faustosus looked out the window of the tower in his Father's chamber. "Father… Are you aware that several of your Sin'dorei students are still loyal to you?"

"What are you getting at…?"

"It seems that they are negotiating an alliance with the Horde… Perhaps we could use them to our own interests?"

"Your idea is… Intriguing."

"It will only require my deployment into the world. Just tell me where to go and I'll be there shortly."

"So you're suggesting you wish to go out into Elwynn to gather followers…?"

"Exactly."

Sorken smirked at his son, very interested by his idea. "Very well then, I shall let the others know of your coming. I hope your mission is successful."

"It shall be done, Father."

----

Ira, a young, stern girl with rather pale skin and long, tied Dark hair, and a pair of rather unusual eyes: Like the rest of her family, her irises appeared to have dancing flames within them. Keeping her weapons close, she takes off the chafing mail armor she was wearing at the moment to replace it with more comfortable, practical clothing. According to Avarica, she was going to meet the new heir to the family, and that his name would mean "Pride," meaning that if she didn't present herself correctly, she would never hear the end of it…

Ira sighed heavily and heard footsteps at the door. She frantically threw off her chain mail vest, took off her similarly constructed pants and threw on a dress. She quickly tied her hair up and stepped into the common of the Lion's Pride Inn in Goldshire. A man in crimson robes and long, dark hair entered the room with her same searing eyes. Behind him was Avarica, looking back to make sure no one was following.

"Well, well, well… Ira, you sure cleaned up quick. What, is your armor still in the other room?"

"Really Avarica, you need to learn how to shut the hell up…" Ira remarked irritably. "I take it this is Pride?"

The man in Red nodded. "I am. My name to these others is Faustosus, though, just as yours is Ira, Wrath."

Ira slightly nodded, comprehending. She grunted in acknowledgement.

"So, what are we to do about the traitor?" Avarica said, pretending to be enthusiastic.

"Well, I suppose we should keep track of his activity, see what he's doing and assess his weaknesses before striking. Now that he's Undead, he probably has a completely different physiology, strengths, and falls. We need to observe him before making any sort of movement against him. Avarica, Ira, you two will be charged with the task of overseeing him in Tirisfal, the two of you alternating in your tasks."

"Yes, Pride," the women said in unison, Avarica with her usual smirk, and Ira with a sterner, more disciplined face. The two bow and walk off, then Avarica turned around and met Faustosus' gaze.

"Hey, Faust, question… Who goes first?"

Faustosus pondered a moment… "I believe it would be fitting for Ira to go first, Avarica… You still have the duty with Inersia to get some people to join our cause."

Avarica shrugged and patted Ira on the back. "Whatever you say. Ira, you know what to do, sis."

Ira nodded grimly at her younger sister. She changed back into her battle gear, and began to make the long, dark journey north, to spy on her wayward brother…

The chase begins…


End file.
